Du Jingtang could only say that to appease the people. If he still kept silent, he was afraid that they would eat him up.
When he finished speaking, they were disappointed; but they could only accept it upon hearing the compensation. After all, they were no boss—just mere employers—and had to abide by everything the president said. His words were law.
If he wanted to work overtime, they had to. If he wanted them to scram, they had to cover themselves with a blanket and roll into a ball.
Rather than saying the Chu Group provided them with jobs, it was more apt to say that the Chu Group was their bread and butter.
Everyone scattered and dispersed to their positions, and Du Jingtang patted his chest, feeling his breathing ease. He would have suffocated to death if they had continued surrounding him.
There was still a pile of documents in his arms. Taking a deep breath, he turned around and took the elevator to the 18th floor.
